This poem was written a few years ago when I was at The Drake Hotel in Chicago after my grandfather passed away. I spent a few days writing the eulogy for his funeral. Later, it found a second home in my novel, Wednesday Night Meeting, with some alterations to align with the character named Roosevelt, a poet and graffiti artist.

clean plates, flash points, past desires ,

Burn, Brooklyn liars .

skittled balloons rise,

geometric wonders bloom,

when the boombox booms.

***

'78 Roosevelt drops in the pay phone

for one extra moment...

voice and silver jangles cease,

a dial tone is no atonement.

***

A note on process: The character named Elgin Lee Roosevelt had a few other names before I settled on it. This poem, written back in 2011, was the inspiration. I was born in 1978 and he is the character with which I most identify. The poem is about a young boy wanting his father to come home with no excuses. As an adult I'm very forgiving, but time isn't.